By popular demand, I am back! Well, that was actually my demand to Becca; to write another blog for me to have something entertaining to read today. When she failed to meet that demand, I decided it better to write my own and use her webspace to host the story I am about to tell. I posted the shortened version on my Facebook yesterday and received a bountiful seven “likes” that left me quite disappointed. So, instead I am going to use Becca’s immense following to help me bask in the glory of what I accomplished. After this is finished, I am going to Nevada to find a cavern where I can further retell my story by the use of finger paintings on cave walls.
Do you remember Mr. OB? You should. Catch up here and here. I often wonder about the interpretation of our friendship from afar. A twenty-four year old girl enjoying drinks and conversation at a restaurant bar with a sixty something year old man. Maybe it is an odd friendship pairing to outside eyes, but I do firmly believe in the notion of age only being a number. I know some of my friends who are still in their twenties that are older than Mr. OB. Not only does Mr. OB provide me with continuous entertainment with his quirks and no-fucks-given attitude, but he also has some pretty incredible stories to share.
Why, just last week I had dinner with Mr. OB after an extended period of not having dinner with Mr. OB for no particular reason. He told me the hilarious story about the time that he hitch hiked from Mississippi to Illinois to stay with a friend when he was just 19 years old. He was kicked out of his college for being in a girl’s dorm after hours and decided to get out-of-town to avoid the heat from his parents. Shocker.
We began to discuss the differences between the times. Hitch hiking was common place and not surrounded by the qualms of abduction back then. At least not as much as now. He told me about the people who picked him up along the way.
Me: “So what were the people like? How many different people picked you up?”
Mr OB: “I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember this one hippy chick who picked me up” Continue reading
Okay, so obviously my announcement that I was retiring as a blogger was a completely ridiculous April Fool’s Day prank that many people saw straight through. I’ve never been good at April Fool’s Day trickery, but I did confuse a few people by shutting down my blog for a day. I have always been a supporter of mischievous antics, so I couldn’t let it pass without my own pranking attempt. Even if they always end up less effective than trying to microwave boil your Easter eggs.
I’ll tell y’all this much, I was duped far more times than I did the duping this April 1st, but it was an interesting day nonetheless. Continue reading
Yesterday I posted a riddle on Twitter and Facebook: Name a book that everyone has, no one reads, and contains the most characters ever put in between two covers.
What you see in the photo, other than my ultra generic but sincerely welcoming welcome mat, is something called a phone book. There is also a large orange door that keeps me safe from intruders. That is a cool color for a door, right? How many people can say that they have an orange door? Sometimes I describe it as “papaya” just to play it up. Unfortunately, my door’s special hue can’t get rid of the aforementioned abomination.
Last week, I arrived home from a taxing day of work and mindlessly climbed the stairs three stories up to my apartment. As I rounded the corner of the stairwell, I saw a line of identical plastic bags placed strategically in front of each door on my floor. As if they were presents or something. Pfft! I didn’t even have to inspect the shady package to know what awaited me. That is partly because the bag was clear, but mostly because I could smell the tears of the rain forest emanating from the pages.
Another phone book.
I didn’t fret. I had a plan. I would pretend it wasn’t there and hope that eventually maintenance or the old, hoarder lady next door would swipe it up without me having to even touch it. A week went by, and I noticed that the stubborn yellow eyesore wasn’t giving up easily. Although it moved about three feet from its original imposing position on my threshold, it continued to annoy me. But its position was such that it was no longer decipherable who’s doorstep the book belonged to, so I held on to my composure.
Until one day, I came home and found a disturbing scene at my door step.
There it was. The phone book, miraculously and deliberately resting not only on top of my threshold once again but actually leaning up against my door, clashing horribly with my beautiful papaya. It was as if it was telling me, “I’m coming in whether you like it or not.” It was inexplicable. Had one of my neighbors become frustrated by my blatant disregard for this unwanted delivery? Maybe someone was jealous of my courage to boldly reject the persistent Yellow Pages and wanted to teach me a lesson by nudging the book back closer to my door? Or perhaps the dumpster food itself scooted its way back into my path just to spite me.
There is no telling which scenario is more likely, but I still haven’t let that thing into my house. The last time I did, I ended up with a phone book Eiffel Tower on top of my fridge. Never again.
Okay, I get it. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a NASA worthy computer the size of a staple at their disposal at all times. You know, besides the billions of people world wide who are using a cell phone. Excuse me, smart phone. But come on Yellow Book, do you really need to distribute five phone books to the same household twice a year to ensure that we are all able to order Domino’s when we are hung over?
Not only is it a huge waste of resources, but it just doesn’t make any sense. When was the last time you wished you had a phone book so you could look up your friend’s number that you lost? Never. Why? Probably because your friend’s number is a cell phone number, and guess what type of phone numbers are not in the phone book? The exact kind of number that you need. Plus, using a phone book when you can transfer information simply by booty bumping your mobile device with another is practically as primative as using a warming pan to heat your sheets at night.
Phone book, you misguided me as a tween when I accidentally called the wrong Bobby Smith and lost my one chance at true love. You made sure to trick me into perpetually looking up numbers that were unlisted, and you most certainly don’t rip in half with ease like I saw on TV.
Your silly games no longer fool me. You are nothing but a pathetic leech clinging on for one last shot at cluttering my shelves. No, you are worse than clutter. You are a true waste of space.
As this game of chicken comes to an end, fear not. You will surely be scooped up and recycled by some Good Samaritan that is not me and then redistributed back to my very doorstep in six short months. But next time I will be ready…
I haven’t been writing.
This time I am not going to blame writer’s block. I am not even going to blame my blog for taking over and bashing the hell out of me. Actually, I don’t even feel guilty for not writing at this point…
This time, the writing is being vetoed by a much powerful force. I have purchased a new toy. I spent hours in bed with it this weekend to the point of exhaustion. There will certainly be a significant amount of embarrassment upon my next encounter with my neighbors, for they surely overheard my shrieks of excitement and enjoyment. Even Jack subtly exited the room on several occasions as if even he was embarrassed for me. I practically needed a “do not disturb” sign.
Whoa. I know you all have your minds on peen today (thanks Clown man), but what kind of gal do you take me for? I am talking about my new HD Webcam and accompanying movie editing software. I have many ideas swarming in my mind right now that it is hard for me to wrangle them all and put them into manageable cubbyholes in my mind. So for now, you can just watch me play with my new toy for about fifteen seconds. After all, that’s about how long it takes to get anyone off, right?
Please note: I am no longer just a pixel of your imagination. There will be much more to come once I master this thing.
I am sure y’all remember that huge (imaginary) New Year’s meet up most of us partook in, even if you “don’t remember”. Although it was almost two months ago, I think it is safe to say its memory is still more enchanting than anyone could have fathomed.
Now, imagine if that had been real life. The sensation you just felt was the process of your mind exploding. But bare with me here.
Lately, I have noticed that a lot of mystical and cosmic encounters have been occurring among WordPress bloggers. While we were all getting classy-trashy at our party, Tracy spent New Year’s Eve with none other than Le Clown and his troops IRL. Vyvacious got to meet Sweet Mother and the fearless Jillian Levi last month. The same Jillian Levi who got to meet up with Calahan after that. I am still not over that one. Hell, even La La announced at one point that she received some free travel miles and took to Facebook to get suggestions on a destination.
What does this all mean, and why do I feel so left out? Besides the fact that I am totally left out. (I wear my tweets on my sleeve)
I began stewing. After that, I began high jacking Facebook comment threads with jealous rants. Then, I decided to stop pouting and do something about it.
I e-mailed Jen demanding that we organize a blogger meet up for 2013. I’m imagining something out of You’ve Got Mail, only you don’t have to make out with anyone at the end if you don’t want. You also won’t go out of business (if you have one). You will, however, have to know how to spell fox. That’s the secret password to get into the meet up.
Jen then pooped her pants in agreement. Thank god I had some baby wipes handy. We obviously make a great team, so we decided to join forces to make this blorgy happen. We would like to work on getting a census of where everyone is located, come up with a centralized venue that would be ideal for most of the bloggers interested, and of course pick some date(s).
BUT FIRST, we need to find out if this is something in which bloggers out there would actually participate. Are you pooing your pants in excitement like Jen, or would you rather remain loving your blog friends from afar? Much like that really rank smelling, yet extremely sweet and helpful cousin of yours. Maybe you don’t give a shit either way, but please humor us.
If you wouldn’t mind, please take a second and let us know by answering the poll questions below in a comment. Actually, you better do it or else I am going to high jack the comment section of your blog and continuously post Harlem Shake video links until the spam filter catches me. Or something.
To meet or not to meet? That is the question.
1. Would you be interested in attending a blogger meetup?
2. What is the closest metropolitan area to you?
3. If you are down, what other place(s) would you like to have a meetup?
- How to spot a blogger at ten paces… (lipsticking.com)
- Why Every Blogger Should Blog Outside the Comfort Zone in 2013 (weblogbetter.com)
- Security Bloggers Network Voting (psilvas.wordpress.com)
I have mentioned before that I stopped doing most of the blog awards and such, but that I do enjoy answering the questions that come along with some of them. So this is my half ass participation for Twindaddy who tagged me. I feel like cattle, but I am going to answer all of your questions with a YouTube Video to pay homage to our weekday theme, YouTube Tuesday. And because you have survived on your snowflake for so long. Have fun.
- Dogs shouldn’t snore. Why the hell is my dog snoring? Would you rather this?
- Describe the most embarrassing moment you ever endured. Usually involves autocorrect.
- My butt’s numb from sitting here for so long. Wait, that’s not a question. You have a wedgie. Do you take care of immediately or wait until no one will notice you taking care of it? Here is an option. Or ditch the undies all together.
- A coworker has some nasty body odor. How do you address the situation? Hire Terry Crews. There is no other option.
- You just farted. You are relieved that it wasn’t loud but it quickly becomes apparent that it was SBD. Do you blame the dog? Ummm.
- You don’t have a dog. Who do you blame now? Obviously.
- Who’s the most hilarious blogger you follow besides me? If you didn’t see this coming, you are dense.
- Some dude’s fly is down. Do you do the considerate thing and tell him or are you too embarrassed to say anything because you’d have to admit you were looking at his junk? Don’t be afraid to basket shop.
- What is the funniest movie EVAR?? The character named Becca is not me. Don’t freak out.
- I got so drunk this one time that I actually…. Well if you must know. Just kidding! I haven’t thrown up since I was five. True story.
- If you could be any species in that galaxy far away, which would it be (yes, I’m referring to Star Wars)? I challenge you with some classic extraterrestrialism.
There. I made a post. I am off to pat myself on the back and feel accomplished.
- ‘Harlem Shake’ Craze Sweeps YouTube, Nation (washington.cbslocal.com)
- Las Vegas Tee Times Releases First YouTube Broadcast (prweb.com)
- Watch The Top 9 YouTube Videos Of The Week (huffingtonpost.com)